


A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-06-29
Updated: 2000-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-10 06:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11121897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: What do a Chicago Flatfoot, A Mountie,and A Physic all have in common... MURDER





	A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

 

 

rosebyany

   
 **Standard Disclaimer here**...All characters of Due South belong  
to Alliance and not to lil' ol' me, despite my prayers to the contrary.  
Slight spolier for Eclipse. **Rated PG-13** because I worked hard  
to keep Ray K's swearing down to a minimum, but there are a few mature  
scenes. Any birthdates listed in the story are ones I came up with based  
on what I could find out about the characters themselves and their possible  
age.  
As always, thanks go to **Bonnie** and **Mary Ann** for  
their continued support (lying about how wonderful my stories are so  
I might keep them in reading material for the summer haha) Hope you all  
enjoy it anyway.  
   
 

 FEEDBACK Please!!!   
  

By: **Amethyst**   
  

  


**A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME**

  
  


         The body was found at 0700 early Monday, on a cool September morning, by a thirty five-year-old architect, who was out for his ritual morning jog before work. The victim was a young woman, approximately mid twenties, Caucasian, wearing a multi-colored evening gown and she lay face down on the grass between the regulated jogging path and a clover of shade trees, that many used for picnicking when they visited the park. Her clothing was torn in places, indicating a possible assault may have taken place. The architect had spotted her easily and was wise not to get too close, as he quickly dialed 911 on his cell phone.   
         The Chicago police arrived shortly after, along with paramedics, on the off chance the woman was still alive, and the coroner's investigative team. A black GTO also pulled up to the scene and two men exited the vehicle, having heard the call go over the radio and they were the closest available detectives to investigate the possible homicide. Constable Benton Fraser, tall dark haired with incredibly brilliant blue eyes, stood patiently beside his un-official partner, Detective Ray Kowalski., undercover as Ray Vecchio, pulled out his note pad and took the jogger's statement, as a crew photographed and sealed of the area of the crime scene.   
         Eventually Fraser wandered over to give closer inspection of the area in his own unique way, careful not to intrude on the jobs of the coroner team present. As they turned the woman over, preparing the body for travel to the morgue, even the Mountie had a hard time keeping the bile from rising from his throat.   
        The mass of congealed blood, bone and tissue that was the remainder of the poor woman's face had been rendered unrecognizable, due to the three gun shots that had been fired directly into her features. Ray had turned away quickly, one of the policemen helping with the body lost his breakfast of coffee and a cheese Danish and the architect that had found the woman had fainted.   
         The body was tagged, and placed in a long black vinyl bag, which was quickly zipped to preserve any other outside influence over what was left of the victim's body, before an autopsy could be performed.   
Fraser leaned down to examine the area of grass where the body had been, plucking up two of the blades and raising them closer to his face to inhale a suspiciously familiar scent. His tongue darted out to confirm his suspicion, only to be startled in mid lick by the disgusted voice of his partner standing behind him.   
        "Do not eat dat, Fraser!" Ray warned. "Ya don't know where it's been!"   
        "Of course I do, Ray it was under the...." Fraser began to explain only to have Ray cut him off abruptly.   
        "Drop it!" Ray insisted. "Bad Mountie, you'll spoil yer breakfast." Fraser's lips twisted as he rose, discretely dropping the blades into the pocket of his brown leather bomber jacket.   
        "I wasn't going to eat it, Ray." He assured. "Merely taste it. There seems to be a familiar texture on the blades, a type of clay I believe."   
        "Dis is Chicago Fraser. " Ray reminded as they proceeded to walk back to the car. " Dere's no tellin' what's on the grass in dis city, dat's why we just mow it, not eat it, lick it or feel it up."   
        "Now really, Ray..." Fraser protested.   
        "Com'ahn." Ray encouraged as they opened their individual doors on the vehicle. "I'll buy ya one of dem fancy French rolls on the way to the station."   
        "A Croissant Ray." Fraser supplied as they both settled inside the car respectfully.   
        "Hush or I'll make it a banana split." The detective warned and Fraser shuddered. He simply could not see how his partner could eat something, as sweet so early in the morning, it was positively revolting.   
    
  

        They arrived back at the station shortly after, Diefenbaker trotting off the moment they hit the squad room, no doubt in search of his favorite female. Ray shrugged out of his light gray jacket, revealing a dark, blue long sleeve cotton, dress shirt, under his shoulder holster, quite formal considering the usual T-shirt style he often preferred. The shirt was a simple, solid cut, with a thin angled collar and tailored cuffs. Fraser thought the color and the style complimented his partner well. It matched the detective's slightly faded blue jeans and black boots.   
        Ray hung his jacket over the back of his chair and automatically reached for the small pile of messages in the middle of his desk. He leafed though them absently, decided none of them were overly important or urgent, and decided to quickly go over his notes with Fraser from earlier this morning.   
        "Vecchio!" Welsh bellowed from his office door way, startling the detective, who caught the corner of his desk to steady himself and moved to right the chair he had been about to settle into.   
        "Yes, Sir?" Ray returned quickly.   
        "I want the report on that woman's body that was brought in this morning." Welsh decreed and Ray paled visibly.   
        "Um...now, Sir?" he countered reluctantly. "I was gonna give Mort some time to..."   
        "Now detective." Welsh confirmed in a tone that brokered no argument. "Make sure he goes, Fraser."   
        "Yes Sir." The Mountie replied promptly, casting a sympathetic look toward his friend. Ray did not like the morgue, he was not good around dead bodies.   
        "What are you now, my Mum?" Ray demanded angrily, as he cast an evil glance toward Welsh's now closed office door and stalked around the desk. The Mountie deflected his partner's sarcasm easily; Ray often lashed out when forced to do something he didn't want to do.   
        "Better to go now and get it over with, Ray." He offered and the detective nodded grimly.   
        "Dis sucks, Fraser." Ray grumbled. "I just ate."   
  

        The two men descended the stairs that led to the room Ray Kowalski hated most in the station. Long florescent lights over head marking their path in a desolate, silent journey down a dank soulless corridor. The harsh illumination blinked erratically from its prominent glass beams, casting obscured phantoms against the dreary gray-white walls. The overwhelming smell of ammonia and other decidedly unique odors filtered out from the room where the autopsies were performed. Ray decided that it all amounted to the smell and feel of death, and though he knew death was a part of life, he was sometimes frightened of the bodies of the deceased themselves.   
        As usual, the mortician inside could be heard singing boldly a tune from an old German opera, and he turned from the current cadaver he was working on to offer them a genuine look of pleasure as they entered. He ignored Ray's grim expression, choosing instead to focus on the Canadian with him, whom he seemed to have a lot in common with. Fraser had accompanied the Mortician on a number of occasions to ballets and opera's, he enjoyed the young man's interest in all culture.   
        "Welcome, gentlemen, welcome." He greeted cheerfully as he reached for the beverage he had placed on the clear table behind him, with his free hand; in the other he held his scalpel tool. "Your timing is perfect, I was just about to begin."   
        "Great." Ray muttered, less then impressed as he automatically turned away from the sight of the woman, bathed in just a thin sheet, that lay lifeless on the examination table. He moved over to the desk behind the door, where Mort usually left the victim's personal effects. Fraser however brightened at the prospect, for Mort often allowed the Mountie to assist, why Fraser seemed to cherish such a reward was beyond Ray, he could only shudder at his partner's seemingly morbid streak.   
        "Excellent!" Fraser decided and Mort offered him a full body apron to place over his clothes, as Fraser removed his Stetson, then looked around for a place to lay it. He made his decision and gently dropped it onto Ray's head, receiving a brilliant grin from his partner, who quickly adjusted the hat so it was positioned just so, before reaching for the long manila envelope that awaited him.   
        He pulled on a pair of thin latex gloves then carefully picked through the contents of the envelope, trying not to shiver at the temperature of the cool room. He understood of course they had to keep it cooler than other places in the station, for many of the dead were stored here and if the area was any warmer the bodies would decompose faster and then the place would positively reek. Nothing worse than a ripe stiff, Ray thought comically, then shuddered at the bad taste it left in his mouth.   
         The envelope contained one pearl drop earring, a half eaten roll of peppermints, a small match book to a local restaurant, and a silver necklace with a small hand holding a crystal. He picked up the woman's wallet, which surprisingly had been left behind by who ever had attacked her. He examined the NY driver's license, which appeared to belong to a Marissa Denahey, 5'8", green eyes, blond hair, 145 lbs.  Born September 21, 1774. Hmmm, that seemed heavy for the woman they had found, but she could have easily lost weight in the two years since she had last reknewed her license.   
        There was no money in the small leather pouch, of course, nor any credit cards, just the license, her social security card and a small plastic folder of pictures. Ray just skimmed over them, your average wallet photos, which contained a mom and pop picture, what could be two friends or sisters posing flirtatiously for the photographer, a young boy graduating and even one of a lovely golden retriever.   
        He shivered again and gooseflesh appeared on his neck and the forearms under his shirt.  Suddenly the warmth of Fraser's brown leather jacket being draped around him broke the chill. He glanced up gratefully at the Mountie, who smiled and returned to Mort's side. Now he had a matching set, Ray thought amused as he folded his arms into the sleeves of the jacket and readjusted the Stetson to sit just a smudge higher on his head so he could see better. He remembered dressing as a Mountie that time Fraser had offered him asylum and he had talked Turnbull out of his uniform. He allowed himself to sink into the heat of his partner's jacket. And continued to examine the articles before him. The Mountie missed nothing, even when deep in examination of a cadaver it seemed.   
        "So, what's da verdict?' Ray called back to them, refusing to turn and see for himself.   
        "The woman died of bullet wounds to the head, Ray." Fraser informed and Ray turned to give him a long hard look, then quickly turned back when his eyes fell on the body next to the Mountie.   
        "I figured dat on my own, Fraser." He pointed out, knowing his friend was being deliberately obtuse. Fraser bit his lower lip to keep from smiling.   
        "The victim died between eleven and midnight Sunday evening." Mort offered. "She is still quite fresh, which is wonderful for us because we are able to tell more about.... Ray held up his hand and made a face, turning away from them again.   
        "Just da facts." He demanded trying not to gag. He did not wish to hear the advantages and disadvantages of a recently deceased person and a decomposing one.   
        "Oh." Mort sighed disappointed and Fraser was sure he saw a wicked glint in the older German's eyes.   
        He suspected the mortician enjoyed torturing Ray, just like the time he had claimed he was late for an engagement and had invited Fraser to go with him. He told Ray the body had not yet been fingerprinted and since Fraser was also going, Ray would be left to do it himself. Ray was not amused, adamantly refused to do it in fact, though Fraser saw that it had been done when he returned the next day and Ray's signature, or rather Vecchio's signature at the time, had been on the document at the bottom.   
        "I can find no evidence of a sexual assault." Mort explained. "There is however some bruising on her upper arms and torso that may have indicated a physical encounter, but they are at least a week old. However it is her fingers that disturb me.   
        "Why?" Ray asked curious.   
        "Come see and I will show you." He suggested and Ray shook his head.   
        "Just tell me." He countered.   
        "Really, Ray." Fraser encouraged. "This is something you have to look at, I cannot explain it either." That really spiked the detective's interest, something Fraser couldn't ascertain was worth looking at, even if it was on a dead body. Mort had kindly covered up the woman's face, what was left of it, as Ray slowly approached.   
        "If you look at her fingers you will find that they seem to have been rubbed almost smooth." Mort countered, as he indicated the detective have a look at the hand of the dead woman he had lifted.   
        Ray didn't really want to look, he was already queasy as hell, but the sight of the woman's hand disturbed him. Yet, just as Mort had said, both hands appeared normal except that there were no identifying swirls or markings on the skin that could be used for fingerprinting purposes. He looked again, there had to be, the small crevices on a person's fingers were unique to them selves, they couldn't be rubbed off. How very strange, like the woman never really existed.   
        "There is also no foreign skin or hair under her nails or even on her person to indicate there may have been a struggle," Fraser explained, as his partner released the dead woman's hands and moved back uncomfortably toward the desk again.  "If the perpetrator meant to rob her and assault her, I am sure she would have struggled somewhat."   
        "Unless she was drugged." Ray countered, keeping his back too them as he set the license, photos  and the bag with the necklace aside and returned the remainder of the effects to the envelope.   
        "We found no drugs in her system." Mort denied. "In fact her stomach was practically empty, as though she hadn't eaten in a couple of days."   
        "That doesn't make sense." Fraser frowned. "She was dressed for some sort of engagement and did not appear to be lacking in funds, judging by her impeccably manicured nails and the name brand clothing."   
        "Maybe she was starving herself to fit into dat expensive dress." Ray reasoned. "Women do dat sometimes."   
        "That hardly seems advisable, Ray." Fraser determined concerned. "Why would she risk her health in such a way?"   
        "Women do it all da time, Fraser." Ray replied. "I'm more interested in da way she was killed and by who."   
        "Whom." Fraser automatically corrected.   
        "Huh?" Ray asked confused as he dropped the personal effects he had selected into the pocket of the jacket.   
         "By whom, Ray, not by who." Fraser elaborated and Ray shot him a dirty look.   
         "Save da grammar lesson fer later, Fraser." He ordered and Fraser nodded.   
         "I have a little more work to do, gentlemen." Mort announced. "But I will send my report to you in about an hour."   
         "Thank you kindly, Sir." Fraser offered plucking his hat from Ray's head.   
         "Yah, thanks, Mort." Ray mimicked as they left.   
         "It is possible that the woman's death...." Fraser began as they headed back up the corridor.   
         "Denahey." Ray supplied automatically. "According to her id she's Marissa Denahey."   
         "Ah." Fraser absorbed the information. "Ms. Denahey may have simply been the victim of a botched robbery Ray.    The perpetrator may have been frightened away if she put up a struggle or if the gun he may have been using accidentally fired."   
         "A gun does not fire three times accidentally, Frase." Ray rebuked. "And three shots to da face seems pretty damn personal if ya ask me."   
         "So you are alleging that she knew her attacker, Ray?" Fraser inquired as his partner shrugged.   
         "Dunno." He admitted as he reached into the pocket of Fraser's jacket. "I got her...Eeewwe! Fraser what da hell?" His hand came out with the sticky blades of grass Fraser had deposited in the pocket earlier.   
         "I was going to have them tested for the adhesive I found on them, Ray." Fraser explained removing the blades as Ray turned back a few steps to enter the only bathroom in the basement.   
         "Ya offer me yer jacket after ya put slimy grass some dead person was lyin' on in yer pocket!" he questioned in disbelief, storming over to the sink and vigorously scrubbing his hands clean. "Dat's not buddies Fraser."   
         "I apologize Ray." Fraser amended quickly. "I momentarily forgot that I had put them there and you seemed chilled in the morgue so it was only polite to offer you my jacket since I am naturally warm blooded."   
         "I appreciate dat, Fraser." Ray amended drying his hands on a paper towel torn from the dispenser, then shrugging out of the jacket and offering it back to the Mountie. "But clean out yer pockets next time, will ya?"   
         "Well, Ray." Fraser remarked as he pulled on the jacket, dropped his evidence back inside the pocket and moved to wash his own hands. "Normally I would assume you would not have your hands in my pockets."   
         "I didn't....! Ray denied flustered and casting the Mountie an extreme look of exasperation. "Just shut up and gimmie the ID and pictures, dey must be in the other pocket."   
         "Certainly, Ray." His partner agreed, drying his hands then handing the detective the requested items form his jacket. Ray snatched them from him, but not before Fraser saw the tell tale twitching of his friend's lips.  Ray removed the Stetson, reverently, and tossed it to the Mountie as they quickly jogged up the steps to the upper levels of the station.   
They passed Francesca in the hallway, Dief at her heels as usual and Ray caught her arm and handed her the license, requesting she run it for notification of the next of kin.   
        "Hiya Frase." She purred deliberately, then offered Ray a tolerant look. "What do you say?"   
        "Now." Ray retorted and she glared at him.   
        "Please, Francesca." Fraser offered before a fight broke out between them.   
        "Yah, please do yer freakin' job Frannie." Ray countered.   
        "Hey, Fraser!" Detective Dewey called from across the room. "We have a question about Canada we need ya to answer."   
        "Certainly." Fraser agreed, eager to be out of the direct firing range of the daggers Ray and Francesca were tossing each other with their looks. "Excuse me a moment, Ray. Francesca." He hurried off and Ray cast him an absent glance as Francesca moved to her desk and settled in her seat. He followed and leaned over her shoulder to view the screen as she typed.   
        "Do you mind?" she hissed and Ray just shook his head.   
        "Nope."   
        "Y'know, if you had Fraser's manners ya'd get a lot more done fer you." She muttered.   
        "If I had Fraser's manners I'd be a priest not a cop, Frannie." Ray retorted as he leaned closer to whisper in her ear.   "You could help me out a little once in awhile, sis." Francesca glanced back at him at the deliberate title he used for her, trying to ignore how utterly wonderful his light cologne smelled or how his warm, teasing breath on her neck sent her pulse sky rocketing.   
        "H...How?" she inquired, frustrated at how husky her voice suddenly sounded.   
        "Well, if you didn't walk around wearin' those sexy outfits and smellin' so sweet I'd be able to remember yer supposed ta be my sister and I could act accordingly." Francesca blushed and flexed her hands on the keyboard to cover her trembling. "Now run dat license fer me." He surprised her by kissing her cheek. "Pretty please."   
        "S...sure thing, Bro." She managed, trying not to turn as he walked away, to look after him. Boy! When he turned on the charm he pumped it way up, she mused silently, as she entered the information in the computer then reached for a piece of paper to fan herself with.   
  

        Shortly after, Ray received the information from Francesca and he and Fraser headed out to confront Marissa's sister about her death. They drove up to the Denahey Estate and Ray showed his badge to the guard at the gate, who promptly called up to the main house then allowed them to drive through. They followed the long stretch of pavement until it curved into a circular drive, where a Bentley and a Porsche were both parked. Ray and Fraser stepped out of the vehicle and climbed the steps leading to the front door of the huge Tudor style mansion.   
        Before they could even knock however, the door opened and a six foot seven black butler's uniform greeted them. Both men swallowed nervously, as they raised their eyes to attempt to find a face above the solid, tailored chest that lay before them.   
        "This way." The suit rumbled as it stepped aside for them to cross over the threshold. Both men cautiously entered, and the heavy oak doors closed behind them, blocking out the sun. Where the hell was Gomez Adams and uncle Fester, Ray couldn't help wonder as they followed the mountain of a man into a large, attractively decorated parlor. "Wait here." They were instructed, as the man Ray had already started thinking of as Lurch, closed the ivory double doors and exited leaving the two partners in the room alone.   
        "Okay." Ray chuckled nervously as he grinned at Fraser. "Should we be worried here?" Before the Mountie could answer however, an adjacent door opened on the far wall and a slim woman with stylishly short black hair and hazel eyes entered. She held out her hand to them, the diamonds of her expensive tennis bracelet glimmering seductively in the comfortable lighting of the room.   
        "I am Marlana Denahey." She greeted in a husky voice that easily suited the glamorous image she portrayed. Both men shook her hand and introduced themselves; surprisingly the woman accepted a Mounties's presence in Chicago better than others had, and did not question Fraser as to his reason for being there with Ray. "Would you both care for some refreshment?" Both men declined graciously. "Then how may I help you? I'm afraid I've already bought tickets to the policemen's ball."   
        "Dis is a little more serious dan that, Ma'am." Ray commented gently. "Could you tell us if you are related to a Marissa Denahey?"   
        "Yes." Marlana answered automatically. "She is my sister. She is an actress on Broadway." Ray and Fraser exchanged a glance; this was the part both of them hated. They glanced over as a tall, strikingly handsome man, entered and moved immediately to Marlana's side.   
        "What's going on here?" he demanded.   
        "And you are?" Ray countered as Marlana quickly made the introductions.   
        "This is my...close friend Edward." She stated. "You may say whatever you have to say in front of him detective." Ray nodded, though he wasn't too keen on the way Edward was eyeing him.   
        "We believe there has been an incident, involving your sister, Miss. Denahey." Fraser offered. "A woman was found in Normandy Park this morning. She had been killed and she was carrying your sister's license."   
        "My sister is in New York, Constable...Fraser was it?" Marlana insisted and the Mountie nodded. "It couldn't possibly be her, she would have called me to tell me if she was in Chicago. You must be mistaken." Ray removed the folder of pictures.   
        "Do you recognize these?" he asked and she took the photos and glanced over them.   
        "Yes, these are photo's of our family." She admitted. "But there still must be some mistake. Perhaps someone stole her purse and came to Chicago. Marissa isn't here she is in New York."   
        "Is that why you're here, to tell us you caught some miscreant with Marissa's wallet?" Edward challenged, his arm going protectively around Marlana.Ray ignored him and handed her the plastic evidence bag with the necklace.   
        "Does this belong to yer sister?" he asked and Marlana eyes flashed with animosity.   
         "Mari is in New York! She is on Broadway in a play this very night." Her face crumbled as tears sprung to her eyes. "It can't be her, it can't be!" She stared down at the bag in her hands, her fingers lovingly tracing the pattern, then her hand went to her throat and the men saw an identical necklace against Marlana Denahey's pale skin. "Our mother had them made for us when I was five and Mari was three."   
        "If you prefer to come to the station you can identify the body," Ray offered as she reluctantly handed back the evidence. "But the woman was shot three times in the face and can't be recognized dat way." Fraser moved just as quickly as his partner, but it was Edward who caught Marlana as she fainted and settled her in a nearby chair. She began to stir almost immediately, as Fraser poured some water for her from a small picture on the bar.   
        "We are very sorry." Ray offered gently as she gripped the glass with one hand and his with the others.   
        "I think you should go now." Edward decided but Marlana shook her head as she struggled to compose herself.   
        "I...I have to see." She croaked. "I...I have to know." They nodded.   
        "Perhaps if you could tell us if your sister had any particular birthmarks that we may be able to identify her with...."   
        "No!" Marlana defied, rising to her feet shakily, but with a determined grace, her fingers still grasped Edward's for support as he rose with her. "I have to see her. I'll know if it is my sister." Both men nodded reluctantly, for there was little choice, the body had to be identified.   
        "We'll drive you if you like?" Ray offered as she finally released his hand and set the glass of water on the table beside her. She smoothed over her immaculate peach colored, slack suit with a shaky hand.   
        "Yes." She agreed in a breathy voice, as though she had been running a marathon. "Just...just allow me to gather my purse, won't you?" She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, the sudden shadows under her eyes, "Perhaps powder my nose. Excuse me gentlemen." She exited the room with the same grace she had originally entered, with Edward close behind her and both men watched her sympathetically.   
        "Strong woman." Fraser commented and Ray nodded in agreement, his condolences going out to her silently.   
        Instead of driving with them, Marlana Denahey and her friend Edward followed in a chauffeur driven car. They pulled into the station and Ray and Fraser escorted the woman to the morgue to view the body of what could be her sister. They attempted to warn her of the horror she was about to see, suggested once again that if she could give them a way to identify her, but she was firm. She had to see the woman's body, had to know for herself, regardless of the circumstances, if her sister was indeed dead. Ray and Fraser couldn't help admire her courage.   
        The technician pulled out the drawer that the woman's body had been placed on after Mort's examination. With a hesitant look at the detective, he pulled back the sheet and Edward placed a firm hand on Marlana's shoulder as her hand went to her mouth in a barely uttered gasp. Pulling herself up firmly, despite a sudden trembling in her limbs, she moved the sheet down further and gently caressed the small scar across the woman's abdomen and the small almost pointed golden birthmark below it.   
        "She had her appendix out when she was nine," Marlana murmured, more to herself than to the men in the room. "She was always so concerned about that silly scar ruining her career as an actress." Marlana shook her head sadly. "But she was such a beautiful and loving person."   
        "You can identify this woman as your sister then, Miss. Denahey?" Fraser inquired gently and Marlana nodded and turned away.   
        Edward placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her and she turned toward him and sobbed against her shoulder Fraser offered Marlana a handkerchief, ignoring the despising look Edward's emerald eyes cast them.   
        "Thank you both for your assistance." She murmured wiping her eyes then handing the cloth back to the Mountie and composing herself into regal impression of the woman they first met that morning. "I want your promise detective. You promise me that you will catch the bastard that did this to my sister."   
        "We'll do our best Ma'am." Ray vowed and that seemed to be enough for Marlana Denahey. Fraser glanced at Ray one final time before offering another sympathetic look for the woman beside them, then Edward turned her away and escorted her out.   
  

         "I believe we were supposed to see Leftenant Welsh, Ray." The Mountie reminded, as Ray settled back at his desk and seemed to drift off into his own little world as he squeezed a small stress ball to a subtle rhythm in his grip. Francesca had informed them the Lieutenant had requested their presence the moment they were done with Marlana Denahey, and that their superior was apparently interviewing a woman claiming to be physic to help with the case. "Ray? Ray? Ray!"   
        "I think Welsh has lost his last marble." Ray grunted. "He can call dat 900 hot line and get all da physics he wants ya know."   
        "I am sure Leftenant Welsh will do whatever is necessary, Ray." Fraser commented. "She could be a number of things, a seer of the future, or past, a mind reader...."   
         "Ah, she couldn't read my mind, Fraser." Ray protested as he leaned back in his chair and reached again for his cup of coffee, which he had acquired from the break room on the way back from the morgue.   
         "Why is that, Ray?" inquired Fraser, dropping his Stetson on the desk, which he had been fidgeting with in his lap, then settling back in the chair opposite his partner, his long denim clad legs crossed over each other comfortably. "Have you actually finally lost your mind as you claim you will any day now?" Ray smirked at him and placed his coffee back on his desk..   
         "Ha ha, Fraser the comedian." He retorted tossing the ball at his partner, who caught it and easily returned it.  "You leave yer sense of humor back in Canada dere, Buddy? Oops, sorry my mistake you never had a sense of humor." Fraser willed his lips to be still and waited for his friend to continue. "No, I just mean, I don't believe in that stuff. Besides, I don't know what's goin' on in my head half the time, I can't imagine she'd be able to figure it out any better."   
         "That's just silly, Ray." Remarked Fraser dryly. "You're just worried she'll find out something you don't want her to."   
         "Yer so smart, let her pick yer brain, then." Ray dared as Welsh and the woman in question approached them, obviously tired of waiting for the detective to join them in the Lieutenant's office.   
         "What would she pick my brain with, Ray?" Fraser questioned, then politely stood as he noticed their sudden company. Ray couldn't decide half the time if the Canadian really didn't understand or if he was being obtuse, but he refrained from commenting, since the object of their discussion was suddenly within earshot.   
         "Gentlemen," greeted Welsh frowning. "Forget where my office is, Detective?"   
         "No, Sir." Ray returned promptly, also rising to his feet. "I was just...er...on my way over." Welsh's eyes hardened on him, taking in the coffee and the ball in Ray's hand.   
         "So I see." He defined sarcastically and Ray lowered his eyes, caught and sufficiently chastised. Welsh never had to say much; it was the looks and the Lieutenant's tone that said it all.   
        "This is Miss. Spencer; she will be assisting you with this morning's murder case. Miss. Spencer, Detective Vecchio and Constable Fraser."   
         "A pleasure to meet you, Ma'am." Fraser returned politely, as she shook his hand, and for a brief moment, Fraser felt suspended in time, as though he had met this woman once before.   
         "Constable Fraser." She greeted warmly. "I've been to Canada a few times. It is breathtakingly beautiful in some areas, you must miss it terribly." Fraser gave her a small but delighted smile, a rare thing for the Mountie indeed.   
         "Yes, I do. Thank you kindly." She smiled again and offered her hand to Ray.   
         "Detective Vecchio." She greeted as his hand touched hers and they both jumped back from the current of electricity that seemed to flow through them as they touched.   
         "Sorry." Ray apologized instantly; wondering what he had brushed against that would have caused him to shock her like that. She was wringing her still tingling hand, but she offered him a polite smile.   
         "That's okay." She assured, though she didn't attempt to touch him again. Welsh chuckled and continued speaking.   
         "Vecchio always did have an electric personality, Miss. Spencer." Ray glared at him, but was ignored as Welsh continued once more. "Miss Spencer has worked with many other precincts in the area with missing persons and murder cases like this so I am leaving her in your capable hands, gentlemen. I want one of you with her day and night, until we get this case is solved, capiche?"   
         "I ain't a babysitter." Ray muttered and Welsh looked at him sharply.   
         "Something on yer mind, Detective?"   
         "No sir." He replied quickly, putting on his duty face. "Day and night Sir, yes sir."   
         "Glad to hear it." He nodded to Miss. Spencer and wandered back to his office.   
         "Er...excuse me." Ray offered and quickly followed the Lieutenant into the office.   
         "Not now detective." Welsh grumbled settling behind the desk.   
         "Look, Sir, I don't get it." Ray pressed forward ignoring his commander's warning. "A physic? I mean, com'ahn! Me and Frase'll have dis case sewn up real soon, why bring in da crack pot?"   
         "According to the Captain she is not a crackpot." Welsh muttered, obviously not thrilled with the idea of Miss. Spencer's presence anymore than Ray was. "They want her on the case. She has helped solve numerous kidnapping cases and she came to us, we didn't seek her out so in all fairness we should present her with every opportunity to help us with this case and treat her and her abilities, such as they are, with every respect they deserve."   
          Ray was hard pressed to keep from grinning. Those sounded like direct quotes from the Big Man, or rather woman upstairs and Ray could tell the whole situation stuck in Welsh's craw like an unwanted trip to the dentist. He tossed the ball to the larger man who caught it easily.   
         "You need this more than I do." He reasoned with a sympathetic grin.   
         "Get to work, Vecchio." Welsh growled and Ray hustled out, but when he glanced back he could see the Lieutenant smirking and already working out his frustrations with the toy.   
         Ray glanced at the alleged physic as she chatted with Fraser. She was fairly petite for a woman, maybe only 5'5 or 5'6" if that. She had long dark auburn hair that was pulled back in a simple plait down her back and her eyes held the color of mysterious, sapphire blue. Pale skin contrasted such dark hair and jeweled eyes, but in an exotic way.  Her simple jade slack suit seemed to flow with her every movement, highlighting firm, full breasts and generously curvaceous hips. Ray thought she was quite pretty. He quickly steeled his thoughts against her, whether she really could read minds or not he wasn't taking the chance. Spencer seemed to sense his with drawl, even as he approached and picked up his coffee for a quick swallow.   
         "Relax, Detective." She smiled. "I can't read your thoughts."   
         "I figured or ya woulda slapped me already." He rebuffed and she chuckled at his audacity. She winked at him and added.   
          "At least not from here. I require a physical sensory input most times and then it's more an empathic connection than the actual mental telepathy." Ray stared at her befuddled, her words sounding Greek to him. He made a show of passing his hand over his head and shaking it soundly from the force, causing her to chuckle.   
         "I believe what Miss. Spencer means, Ray." Simplified Fraser helpfully. "Is that she needs to be physically touching someone, or an article of that person." Ray nodded, that he understood, before giving Fraser a little nudge in her direction. Fraser offered him a mild glare and stood his ground as the woman next to him either didn't notice the exchange or chose to ignore it.   
         "You know something of the way we work, Constable?" she inquired surprised, Fraser assumed she meant other physics, so he nodded.   
         "I have had experience with some proclaimed physics, yes." He replied and she smiled pleased. "I actually find the whole process rather fascinating. The Inuit have a remarkable way of foretelling what is to come by..."   
         "Later Fraser." Ray reminded and Fraser's mouth snapped shut obediently as the woman beside him hid her smile.   
         At least she could count on the Mounties's support, she thought delighted. Most people she met ranged into two categories, the people who simply accepted her as she was and for the talents God gave her, and the skeptics she had to work to win over. Since Fraser seemed to be in the first category that would probably meant Vecchio would take up the latter. She turned to him.   
          "And you Detective?" she asked wanting to get the usual problems out in the open and out of the way first and foremost. "How do you feel about this whole situation of dealing with a physic?"   
         "I'll try anything once." He winked at her, taking another sip of his coffee and she offered him a startled glance, she hadn't been expecting that.   
         "Twice if he likes it." Offered Fraser, causing Ray to clear his throat intentionally. Why did he have to have a partner with a photographic memory? Fraser always seemed to throw his words back at him at the most inappropriate ways, like that day in the crypt when Ray had tried to tell him he wasn't really Ray Vecchio. Fraser had simply used all Ray's original excuses of why he could be Ray Vecchio the first day they had met.   
         "Well, then, let's get started, shall we?" Spencer suggested eager to do this. "Lieutenant Welsh said you could fill me in on the case we will be working on, although I already have some of my own information, I may be able to access more with additional facts."   
         "Don't you know it all already?" commented Ray and Fraser shot him a frown of disapproval. The detective was decidedly frisky today for some reason.   
         "Ray." He admonished, as the woman watched the exchange between the two men, this would be interesting.   
         "Ah hell, Fraser." Ray sighed tossing the file he had scooped from his tray toward the Mountie, watching him catch it easily. "If yer not gonna let me have any fun, you brief her, I'm gonna check out something with Frannie." Fraser looked after him, confused, then shook his head and turned back to the woman next to him.   
         "I apologize, Miss...."   
         "Call me Cari, please." She requested, also watching the blond detective saunter over to the civilian aid's desk. He had a very nice...   
         "Very well, Cari." Fraser returned, interrupting her thoughts. "If you will call me Benton or Ben." She tilted her head, watching Ray lean over Francesca's shoulder as she typed something on the computer. He said something that made her laugh and she swatted his shoulder, receiving a dazzling grin from him. Finally, she realized she was ignoring the Mountie next to her.   
        "I'm sorry Const...." she smiled, she had at least heard his name. "My mind was wandering." Fraser glanced over at where her mind had wandered to and hid a smile.   
         "Detective Vecchio is single." He offered politely, causing her to lower her eyes as she blushed a pretty pink.   
         "Who's the mind reader here anyway?" she muttered embarrassed and Fraser was immediately contrite.   
         "Forgive me." he said quickly, concerned that he had offended her marring his near perfect brow. "I did not mean to embarrass you or speak out of turn I was just..." She smiled and shook her head.   
        "Benton, hmmm? That is a wonderful name, wherever did you come by it?"   
         "My mother claimed she read it in mystery novel." Fraser supplied, blushing slightly, for most people considered his formal name odd. Cari smiled.   
         "Well, Benton." She deduced. "I always like to keep a record of my favorite male and female names and I believe you have just surpassed Paul as my favorite male name." Fraser glowed with pleasure. Unsure what to say next, he did what he did best apologized once more for embarrassing her with his comment.   
         "It's okay, Benton." She assured. "I was only...um admiring the view." She glanced back at Ray again. "There's something about your partner that...well makes you want to watch him." Fraser nodded, he found the blond entrancing himself at times, often the very energy he generated drew people to watch him. She smiled up at him. "Perhaps I should tell you what I know." Fraser regarded her closely for a moment longer, as thought making sure he was forgiven, then nodded encouragingly.   
        "Have you had many impressions of the killer?" Fraser asked quietly and she nodded.   
         "Only a few, some I received before the murder and a couple after, late last night, but they are mostly the same ones and jumbled enough that I can't make certain things out." She shook her head. "I started seeing them just about two weeks ago, right after the first woman was killed."   
         "There have been others?" Fraser remarked surprised, for they had assumed Miss. Denahey was the first."   
         "I believe so, yes." Cari replied, as Ray joined them again with an extra cup of coffee, which he offered to her and bottle of water for Fraser.  Both thanked him, surprised.   
         "I don't believe our suspect is a serial killer, however he or she is leading up to something, I haven't figured out what yet. They aren't playing with you or intentionally trying to make a name for themselves, the way many serial killers do, they have no sense of reality, or the danger of what they are doing. The murderer is killing because they feel they have to in order to achieve a goal."   
         "You said there were others?" Fraser reminded and she nodded.   
         "A nurse, Sandra Perkins was found dead in her apartment eight days ago, in New York." Cari submitted. "She had been strangled to death. The police there attributed it to a robbery because the apartment had been trashed and valuables taken, but I tried to tell them it was murder, not a robbery."   
        "How do you know?" Ray inquired curious. "Did you see the nurse murdered?"   
        "Yes, I did." Cari defended. "I had a vision of it as it was happening, but I misunderstood what it was because it was jumbled at first." She shook her head. "I don't usually have visions that are such a distance away when they occur, so perhaps my reception was weak."   
        "Maybe you should buy a pair of those rabbit ears and carry them around, I hear they're great for honing in on a signal." Detective Dewey, snickered as he and his partner Huey approached. Ray glared at him, word had gotten around about Miss. Spencer's supposed talents and the second half of the duck boys was never one to pass up a good teasing.   
        "Maybe you should consider learning to eat wit-out yer teeth, too." Kowalski warned as he balled his fist and moved closer, causing the other detective to back up slightly. "Move along, go pull a cat out of a tree or somethin'.   
        "Aw bite me, Vecchio." The other man retorted, but they moved away nonetheless.   
        "Thank you." Cari offered quietly and Ray shrugged, uncomfortable with her gratitude.   
        "I thought you didn't believe in Miss. Spencer's powers, Ray?" Fraser challenged.   
        "I don't." Ray returned easily. "But after bein' yer partner fer almost two years, Frase, I also know never to say never." Although he was sure the comment was meant to be an insult, Fraser beamed at him delighted.   
        "Glad to see you were paying attention, Ray." He teased and Ray offered him a smirk. "Perhaps we can continue this discussion somewhere more private?" The others nodded in agreement and followed Ray to one of the interviewing rooms. Fraser held out the aged straight back chair for Cari, then stood opposite the table as Ray perched on the corner.   
        "So yer sayin'." he began, propping a toothpick between his lips. "That the woman in New York is connected to the murder of Marissa Denahey?"   
        "I don't know if they were acquaintances," she admitted. "But I believe they were killed by the same person."   
        "And dat would be who?" Ray prompted, receiving a moderate look from Miss. Spencer.   
        "I don't know that either." She explained. "I just sense they were killed by the same person."   
        "But you can't tell us who dat person is?" Ray acknowledged. "Or even if it's a man or a woman?"   
        "Ray, sometimes premonitions do not work..." Fraser defended automatically, feeling an underlining need to protect this remarkable woman, though they had just met.   
        "I can't control what I see, detective." Cari stated coolly. "I can only interpret the things I do witness. I sense both sexes around the killer so I don't know if they are male or female."   
        "Hey, don't get yer lather up." Ray reproached defensively. "I'm not puttin' down yer methods or anything, I'm just doin' my job and dat involves gettin' all the facts." Cari relaxed and offered him a slight smile.   
        "I...of course." She murmured. "The New York detective's thought I was a joke, as have many others, I just get annoyed when people challenge me without understanding my abilities. If you would feel better, perhaps I can give you a taste of my gifts and then you will have more of a belief in me."   
        "Miss. Spencer...." Ray began.   
        "Cari, please." She allowed and he nodded slowly.   
        "Cari, it's not important what we believe." He explained. "Our job is to solve the case by bringing the killer, whether it was a botched a robbery, or intentional homicide, to justice. We have to know everything you may or may not know to put the pieces of the puzzle together and to learn what we still have to investigate. If yer powers don't help us at all, or if they lead us to the killer makes no difference; solving the case is our priority-not validating yer physic abilities. You see what I'm saying?"  Fraser stared at his partner impressed, he could not have said it better or more tactfully. Sometimes Ray truly surprised him.   
        "I understand." Cari admitted. "I promise to tell you all I know and see, if you promise to listen with an open mind."   
         "Dat I can do." Ray agreed.   
         "Was there anything of the second victims brought in that I could borrow?" she inquired and Ray nodded.   
         "Yah, she was wearin' a dress, I think it's been bagged." He informed. "It's down in the evidence locker. Everything else was shipped over to her sister's."   
         "May I see it?" she asked. "It will help me get a better reading." The two men nodded and headed down stairs to the evidence locker, where Ray spoke briefly with the clerk, signed in and entered the secured room. He reached up to one of the many boxes, on the rows of shelves, and pulled out the bag with the bloodied dress, but then he held it back warily.   
         "Yer not gonna go into a trance and start spinnin' yer head around now are ya?" Ray asked seriously and she could help but laugh, she was enjoying his easy banter.   
         "I only do that on kidnapping cases, detective." She replied solemnly and Ray grinned and handed her the garment. She removed it from the bag and watched her hold the dress close to her, her eyes closing briefly. Almost instantly she gasped as her eyes flew open, she dropped the dress and her hands flew to her throat.   
         "What is it, Cari?" Fraser inquired as Ray continued to watch intrigued. She offered him a shaky, apologetic smile as her heart started beating again.   
         "I...I'm sorry." She whispered, unable to even speak properly. "When...when I originally saw her murder the visions were muddled and confused, but holding her dress I saw it so vividly for just an instant."   
         "Are you okay?" Ray asked and she nodded, moving to pick up the garment again.   
         "Sometimes when I get the impressions it's almost like I am feeling the victim's pain." She explained. "I couldn't breathe, like before with Sandra Perkins. Suffocation is a terrible way to go." Fraser and Ray exchanged a glance and she caught their hesitation. "What? What is it?"   
         "Um....excuse us, fer a minute." Ray requested as he and Fraser stepped out of range of her hearing.   
         "See, she is a crack pot." Ray reminded and Fraser shook his head.   
         "You promised to have an open mind, Ray." He defended. "However since Ms. Denahey did not die of any type of asphyxiation, her claim of seeing the murder does seem unjustified."   
         "So what do we do?" Ray asked.   
         "She may yet be of some use to the investigation, Ray." Fraser suggested. "Let's just see where it leads?"   
         "Okay." Ray sighed. "But if she leads us on a wild goose chase, Benton Buddy I'll be havin' yer hide on my table dis Thanksgivin' you get me?"   
         "Understood." Fraser agreed, hoping that Cari's other visions would prove to be more helpful.   
          They returned as Cari was placing the dress back in its bag.   
         "I'm not getting much else from that, except I see what may have been a mirror near by, reflecting the woman's image back." She decided finally handing the bag back to Ray and again they shocked each other. Ray put his tingling finger to his mouth and grimaced.   
         "What happens to yer dates, dey get electrocuted when dey kiss ya?" he asked and Fraser was glad the detective was willing to give her a second chance to prove herself. She laughed a sweet melodious sound that filled the quiet room.   
         "Only if they try it on the first date." She returned and Ray grinned again.   
         "I like you." He told her, despite the doubts he still harbored of her abilities. He glanced at Fraser. "Think Welsh will let us keep her?"   
         "It is highly improbable, Ray." Fraser stated his own lips twitching in amusement as he re- sealed the bag and placed it back in the box on the shelf.   
        They headed back upstairs quietly. Ray jogged up the steps ahead of them, and as he heard the phone on his desk ringing when they entered the squadroom, he dashed past and slid to a halt as he grabbed it up knocking over his chair and a few of his files in the process.   
         "Is he always like this?" she asked Fraser as they approached the desk at a more leisurely pace.   
         "Actually no," Fraser admitted. "He is in surprisingly good spirits today." Fraser also knew that meant something was usually troubling the detective, but he did not comment on it.   
         "Should I be worried for when he isn't in good spirits?"   
         "No, he's quite the same in many respects, just a little less agreeable." Fraser replied and Cari nodded in acceptance.   
         "Frase!" Francesca called, as they passed on their way to Kowalski's desk, and handed the Mountie the information she had acquired. "Here's the address of Marissa Denahey's place of work in New York, and her agent. Ray asked fer it earlier."   
         "Thank you kindly, Francesca."   
        "And remind dat partner of yers dat supper is at six." she requested firmly. "So you guys better not be late, Ma's makin' her special Fettuccini."   
         "Well, I will remind him, Francesca." Fraser assured. "But I am uncertain if we can attend. We have been assigned to accompany Miss. Spencer." Francesca glanced at the woman, giving her the once over and Cari offered her a warm smile. She shrugged and decided that the other woman wasn't a threat.   
         "Bring her along." She decided. "Ma likes plenty of company."   
         "Thank you, Miss. Vecchio." Cari returned, and the civilian aid did not bother to ask how Miss. Soencer knew her name, for she had also heard the woman was physic   
         "Aww, call me Frannie, everyone does." She winked. "Except Ma and Frase, but they're special and can get away with using my given name." Fraser blushed and lowered his eyes as Cari giggled at the Mounties's discomfort.   
         "I will if you call me Cari." She assured and Francesca nodded with a smile then returned to her desk as they continued over to where Ray was just hanging up the phone. Fraser handed him the sheet and explained about dinner.   
         "Okay, let me call a few of dese first, den we'll head out." Ray allowed as he righted his chair and settled down to reach for the phone.   
  

         Fraser held the seat forward for Cari and Diefenbaker to climb out, as Ray jogged up the steps of the Vecchio house. She had ridden with them all day and thoroughly enjoyed herself, watching the detective and Mountie interview people, going through case files, investigate a crime scene and speed through the streets of Chicago. Quite frankly they had both left her breathless.   
         "Does he come with batteries?" she asked Fraser as he helped her out. "Or do you just plug him in at night to recharge?" Fraser chuckled as Ray knocked twice on the door, before Tony Vecchio answered it.   
         "About time, Ray." He muttered, not much came between the chubby Italian and a good meal, except his mother in law, waiting on expectant guests.   
         "Hey, it's only just six now." Ray defended as he and Fraser removed their jackets and hung them on the hooks by the door. Fraser helped Cari off with her slight raglan, then set it and his Stetson with the others.   
         "Let's go eat before Ma tan's our hides fer keepin' everybody waiting." Ray suggested, automatically falling into the roll of a Vecchio sibling, and they walked together to the dining room, where everyone else was just getting seated. Maria's oldest girl launched herself from her chair at Ray the moment he entered and he caught her and swung her around playfully.   
         "Will you sit beside me, Uncle Ray?" she demanded as he set her on her feet and she tugged urgently on his hand, pulling him away from Mrs.Vecchio, who had set the dish she had been carrying on the table to walk around and embrace her make believe son.   
         "So many women, so little time." He sighed and Ma laughed as Maria reprimanded her daughter and told her to sit back down. Ray of course settled next to her with Francesca on his other side. Fraser settled on the girl's left, at her insistence, which put Cari on Fraser's right. Ma, Maria and Tony, and the other kids between them, finished the circle around the table.   
          Everyone held hands and Cari felt blessed to be included in such a warm and loving family meal, until of course the chatter and insults began, then she became amused. She noticed Fraser and Ray remained relatively quiet throughout the shanagins, either man occasionally offering to fetch a dish or pass an item from the table to keep world war three from starting. Despite the seeming animosity and general disagreement Cari could feel the love in the room from the people around her more strongly then anything she had ever felt before.   
         "So, yer physic, hey?" Tony suddenly asked her bluntly as his sisterin-law and wife argued back and forth.   
         "That is what they say." Cari returned easily as she placed another delicious morsel of fettuccini in her mouth   
         "So what am I thinkin' about right now?" Tony demanded with a grin and Ray threw a piece of his roll across the table at him, smacking him right in the nose and receiving giggles from the women.   
         "Do not throw food at the table, Caro." Mrs. Vecchio warned, missing nothing.   
         "Sorry, Ma." Ray automatically offered then shot Tony a look.   
         "He deserved it, Ma." Francesca protested, surprising them by standing up for her pretend brother, causing Ray to offer a startled glance.   
         "No he didn't." Maria returned. "He was just asking a question."   
         "Yah, I was just askin' a question." Tony repeated and Maria smacked him upside the head.   
         "Shut up you idiot." She ordered. "Yer just trying to start trouble, as usual."   
         "What'd I do?" Tony asked confused.   
         "You were born." Francesca quipped sarcastically and received another glare from her sister.   
         "Leave my husband alone, Frannie." She threatened. "At least I have one." Immediately the smaller woman's hackles rose.   
         "Enough!" Mrs. Vecchio decreed. "Such behavior when we have guests. Eat your food." Maria and Francesca immediately lowered their eyes and did as they were told. "Forgive my children, Miss. Spencer. They show their love for each other in way's only a true Italian can understand." Cari smiled as the telephone rang. Ray excused himself and rose to catch it, eager to get away from the table more than anything.   
         "Raymond?" Ma inquired a few minutes later as she had left the table to go in search of him. He was just hanging up the wireless telephone, which he had taken with him into the small den opposite the dining room.   
         "Yes?" he turned to her and she reached up to catch his face between her hands in concern.   
         "You look tired, what is troubling you?"   
         "I'm fine." He assured, though she noticed he avoided looking directly into her eyes.   
         "I am not your real mama, Raymond." She whispered sadly, "But you are like a son to me, despite the circumstances that brought you to us. You would not lie to an old woman, would you?" Ray placed his hands over hers and gently pulled them away from his face, then leaned to kiss her cheek affectionately.   
         "It's just been a long day, Ma." He assured softly, as she pulled him into her arms for a brief hug, Ray rarely allowed more than that, despite her attempts to comfort him often. " We have to go."   
         "If I ask you to return tonight, after your work, will you?" she challenged.   
         "Why?"   
         "I wish to speak to you." She replied. "About your feelings for my Francesca." Ray immediately backed away.   
         "Yer thinkin' naughty thoughts, Mrs. V." he warned with a nervous smile as he backed toward the door. "I'm just a fill in son to you and brother to her, nothin' more."   
         "You wish it to be more, Caro." Ma declared ruefully. "You do have feelings for my Francesca. I do not mind, Raymond..."   
         "Da only feelin's I have fer yer daughter are brotherly, Ma." Ray countered quickly. "Don't look fer things dat aren't dere. Besides, Frannie's in love wit Fraser, remember?"   
         "She is infatuated with him, it will not last." Ma defied and Ray shook his head.   
         "We are not having this conversation." He decided, moving to give her a final peck on the cheek. "Thanks fer dinner, gotta go." He left the room and informed Fraser and Miss. Spencer that they had to leave.   
         "Already?" Maria protested as Ma entered the room behind the detective. "Let me at least get you some leftovers to bring home."   
         "No time." Ray insisted as the trio moved toward front door to gather their things. Ma, Maria and Frannie each gave Fraser and Cari a hug and thanked them for coming.   
         "C'mere, bro." Maria tossed catching Ray in a surprise embrace and kissing his cheek. "I'll send yer leftovers in with Frannie tomorrow."   
         "Okay, sure, thanks." Ray agreed shrugging into his jacket, wondering why the Vecchio's were suddenly all being overly affectionate with him. Fraser and Cari headed out, with Diefenbaker behind them and Frannie caught Ray at the door.   
         "What about me, brother dear?" she pouted prettily as she stood up almost on tip toe to embrace him. "Don't I get a kiss goodbye?"   
        Ray bent awkwardly and moved to press his lips to her cheek. No way did they act like this with the real Ray Vecchio, of course he had lived here, but still. Maybe they were just doing it for Miss. Spencer's benefit, yah, that had to be it.  Francesca tilted her head at the last second and their lips touched. Startled they both backed away quickly, but Ray did not miss the knowing smile Mrs. Vecchio wore as she stood watching them.   
         "Um....gotta go." He announced again and quickly departed, almost falling over the steps in his hurry to get away.   
    
  

         The person that had called was Marissa Denahey's agent, a short greasy looking man who had already been tracked down by his office, to let him know the police were wanting to ask him some questions. Ray was surprised to learn that the man had been in Chicago almost a week, which put him in town for the murder of Marissa Denahey. The man had wanted to meet at a local eatery to discuss what he knew.   
         "So, Marissa wasn't in a play on Broadway?" Ray surmised, as the foursome sat in a corner booth at the small deli. Reed Austin, a Wanna-Be Brad Pitt, who looked more, like a scrawny Joe Pesci with a bad hair toupee.   
         "Marissa's acting was done mostly in a closed studio with a lot of different co-stars, if ya get my meaning." He chuckled as he bit into his huge Hero sandwich. "The only Broadway she was ever on was the corner of Broadway and Elm."   
         "She was a prostitute?" Fraser inquired surprised and Reed nodded.   
         "Among other things." He admitted with his mouth full. "That's where I discovered her, helped make her a star."   
         "You call taking a her off da streets just so ya can have her practice da same trade on film, helpin' her?" Ray demanded and Reed shrugged indifferently.   
         "At least I didn't try to get her hooked on crack and beat her half to death like her pimp." He defended. "I did try to get her other roles, she was a good little actress, but she just didn't have the look the big time producers were looking for. She had to eat until something better came along, and she got paid good money for the films."   
         "Minus yer commission of course." Ray sneered and Reed grinned.   
         "Hey, I did my job and I was paid for it." He stated calmly. "She was doin' real good too, had plenty of work in that industry, but then she started becoming obsessed about her looks. I don't know how many different surgeries she had, used up most of her earnings getting her thighs done, her cheeks, her lips, you name it. She ended up looking totally different by the time she was through." He snickered as though remembering a private joke.   
         "Do you know when she made the trip here to Chicago?" Ray asked.   
         "No, me and her had a parting of the ways." Reed announced regretfully. "She'd lost a lot of weight and like I said she'd changed a lot in the way she looked. She started, saying porn was beneath her and she'd find work else where." He shrugged again. "I honestly wished her well, looking as she did I was sure she might make the cut into Hollywood this time, but I couldn't tell you when she left New York. Last I saw her was almost four months ago."   
         "Do you know where she was having her surgeries?" Cari asked, surprising them, because she had been so quiet through the interview. Reed looked her over, as he had when she had first entered he diner with Ray and Fraser, his beady eyes taking in her slender grace and firm figure beneath the material of her suit.   
         "Yeah, I think I've got the address somewhere." He admitted finally. "I was sending her checks directly to them to pay for the procedure. I'll have to check my Rolodex, It's at the hotel. I can call you with the information." He peered at her hungrily. "Unless you wanna come by my room and we can find out some things together?"   
         "I'm afraid I have no desire to be in your kind of films, Mr. Austin." She rebuffed gracefully. "And frankly you have the appeal of last week's garbage." Fraser hid his grin behind his napkin, Ray didn't bother, and he chuckled in delight, despite Reed Austin's obvious embarrassment.   
         "You call me direct when you have dat name and address, won't you?" he suggested firmly, handing the smaller man his card. Reed took it, slightly disgruntled as the other three rose from the booth.   
         "Just drop by tomorrow morning." He requested grumpily. "I'm staying at the Manchester, room 216\. I'll have to catch a flight back to New York at ten tomorrow and you can catch me on the way out.   
         "Thank you kindly for your assistance, Mr. Austin." Fraser offered politely as they turned and left the eatery.   
         "What do you think, Miss. Spencer?" Ray asked as they walked to the car.   
         "I think he's obnoxious, surreptitious, egotistical and he smells bad." She decided firmly and Ray roared with laughter.   
         "Is dat all?" he chuckled as they stopped beside the GTO.   
         "No, I also think...." She began, but was quickly silenced by the horrifyingly distinct sound of two shots being fired behind them.   
         "Get in da car and lock the doors!" Ray ordered tossing her the keys as he pulled his weapon from his holster and he and Fraser hurried back toward the café. They burst inside and found Reed Austin on the floor, blood pouring from the wound in his chest. Ray yelled at the owner to call an ambulance as Fraser knelt beside the victim.   
         "He went out the back door!" one of the witnesses cried and Ray headed that way. He came out into an alley and looked both ways, one was a dead end, so he turned right and headed back toward the street. He paused again and looked for a sign of someone running, just as the person behind him drew back his weapon and clubbed the detective over the head. 

         "Ray!" Cari cried out, from her position in the car. Defying the detective's earlier order she ran from the vehicle and headed for the alley behind the eatery. A tall figure dressed all in black, including a face mask, roughly pushed past her and for an instant she had a vision of tall mansion on the hill. The suspect shook her off and disappeared down the street. She picked herself up and quickly turned the corner to find the unconscious detective and Fraser just coming from the back door of the deli.   
         "Austin's dead" she stated regretfully as she carefully knelt beside Ray and lifted his head on to her lap, again feeling the tingling sensation as their flesh met, but choosing to ignore it. Fraser didn't bother to ask how she knew the man in the diner's fate, instead he concerned himself with his fallen partner.   
        "What happened?" he asked, crouching beside her, his expression grim.   
        "The person in black." She informed as she cradled the detective close to her. "He could be the killer. I saw him come up behind Ray and hit him with something. When I ran over, he ran into me and I saw the face of Marissa Denahey."   
        "Ray?" Fraser called gently, trying to awaken his partner. "Ray?" it was no use, the blond was out cold.   
        "Will he be all right?" she asked worried and Fraser nodded as sirens sounded.   
        "I am sure he will," he assured. "Ray has a rather thick skull." Cari smiled at his teasing as an ambulance pulled up. "I better go and tell them where to go, could you stay here with Ray?" She nodded without hesitation, then her eyes spotted a gun just a few feet away. She reached carefully with her foot and pulled it toward her as Fraser headed toward the paramedics.   
        "Uuuhhh." Ray groaned as he finally started coming around.   
        "Are you okay?" she asked immediately as his eyes opened and met her concerned gaze.   
        "What....somebody hit me." He answered his own question as she helped him to sit up and he put a hand to his throbbing temple. He felt something else, a strange tingling sensation that he couldn't explain, like a mild current of electricity was flowing through him. "Where's Fraser?"   
        "He's with the paramedics." She explained as she slowly helped him to stand. "Are you sure you're okay?"   
        "I'm fine." He assured grimacing slightly. "I thought I told you to stay in the car?"   
        "You did." She confirmed. "But then I saw someone behind you and tried to get to you before you were hurt. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough, I did manage to run into the killer and I..."   
        "You saw me from where?" Ray demanded confused.   
        "From the car." She replied and watched the detective step out and glance down the block toward the GTO, a good twelve feet away or further.   
        "How....?"   
        "In a vision." She supplied quickly. "I know you don't believe me, but he would have killed you if I hadn't come along, so please don't be angry I was only trying to save your life." Ray gently placed a hand over her mouth to stem the furious flow of words.   
        "Did ya get a look at him?" he asked, taking his hand away, and noticed that the tingling stopped almost immediately now that they were no longer touching. How weird. He shook his head then instantaneously regretted it as the pounding started again.   
        "Ray!" Fraser called coming toward them. "Are you all right? Do you wish to go to the hospital and get checked out?"   
        "Fer a bump on da head?" Ray protested. "Don't be dumb Fraser." The Mountie knew his partner would refuse medical attention but it was his duty to try anyway.   
        "You may have a concussion, Ray." He cautioned.   
        "No way!" Ray scoffed as they headed back toward the entrance of the diner. "I'm only seein' four of you, no reason to be worried, Benton, Buddy." Fraser frowned, trying to decide if his partner was deliberately teasing or truly was having vision problems.   
        "Don't forget your gun." Cari cautioned handing the weapon to the detective. Ray frowned, for he had already picked up his nine millimeter, which had been on the ground practically underneath him.   
        "Dat's not mine." He denied inspecting the weapon. "Frase, you know what dis is?"   
        "It looks to be a colt M1911 .45 caliber pistol, Ray." The Mountie deduced and Ray nodded.   
        "Possibly da same weapon dat was used on Marissa Denahey." The detective concurred, carefully taking the handkerchief Fraser offered and wrapping the gun inside it, hopefully they could still lift some prints from it. Cari watched then confused.   
        "What do you mean the weapon used on Marissa?" she demanded. "Marissa Denahey was suffocated, just like Sandra Perkins." The men exchanged a cautious glance.   
        "Marissa Denahey was shot three times in the face at close range." Fraser finally revealed. "She did not die of asphyxiation."   
        "You're wrong." Cari defied. "I saw her. I saw that plastic bag placed over her face, felt the last of her breath leave her, just like with Sandra Perkins, when she was strangled."   
        "The autopsy showed..." Ray began.   
        "Did he even look for a different cause of death?" She asked determined. "Or did he just take for granted that because her face was shot off she had died from that?"   
        "It is worth looking into, Ray." Fraser suggested. "There did seem to be a premeditation to keep Marissa Denahey from being recognized by her features or even her finger prints. We could only go by the fact that she was carrying Marissa Denahey's wallet."   
        "Her sister identified her, remember?" Ray countered as they headed back toward the GTO, after allowing the black and white on the scene to take the statements of the witness's inside.   
        "Correct." Fraser agreed. "But why did the killer go to such trouble to keep her from being recognized otherwise?"   
        "At least ask for a second autopsy." Cari encouraged as Fraser held the seat forward for her to climb inside the car. Ray nodded as he and Fraser settled in front and she leaned forward to peer at them curiously. "If you didn't believe me at the station about Marissa, why didn't you bother to confront me then? Or take me off the case?"   
        "Because everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, Cari." Fraser allowed.   
        "Yah." Ray agreed as he pulled away from the curb. "Besides dat, yer a babe." Cari giggled and leaned further over the seats to deliver a kiss on the cheek for both of them.   
        "You guys are too much." She laughed as they both blushed.   
  

        "She was right!" Ray commented impressed as he picked up the Mountie in front of the Consulate, the following day. Once again Fraser was dressed in his red tunic. "Marissa Denahey was already dead before the killer shot her." He tossed the file down on his desk and braced his hands upon it. "Doesn't make sense, Frase. Why kill someone twice?"   
        "It is a mystery, Ray." Fraser agreed. "There is obviously a connection between the death of Miss. Denahey and Miss. Perkins, as Cari suggested."   
        "Yah, well, we're gonna find something out ourselves, Benton buddy." Ray told him as he turned right toward down town. "We're gonna go check out Reed. Austin's hotel at the Manchester."   
        "Do we have a warrant, Ray?" Fraser inquired, though he already knew the answer to his question.   
        "Don't need one, he was the victim of a shooting, so we gotta check out his place to see who might wanna kill him." Ray countered and Fraser nodded, knowing they still technically needed a warrant, but he wouldn't press it.   
        "Where is Miss. Spencer, today, Ray?" he inquired.   
        "She's was pretty shaken up last night, so I brought her back to the Vecchio's-they'll look after her." The detective informed, as he pulled up to the large, gray brick building, in an older part of town, that was the Manchester hotel.  Glancing down, the coble stones caught his eye and he knelt to examined them. He pressed his finger against one of the   
crevices and tasted the drying calking.   
       "It appears to be the same substance I found on the grass near the body, Ray." he informed quietly. The detective nodded and they went inside and headed up to the second floor to find room 216. He quickly used a credit card to jimmy the lock and the two men stepped inside. The room was a shambles, it seemed they weren't the only ones who had been looking for something. Apparantly the person who murdered Marissa Denahey had been to this hotel more then once, and possibly knew Austin.   
        "Think they got what they came for?" Ray asked as they moved inside and shut the door, moving carefully to avoid the dresser drawers and mattress stuffing that lay about the floor.   
        "It would depend on what they were looking for, I would imagine." Fraser commented as he stepped into the small bathroom. "If you were a man like Reed Austin, what would you have that a someone else might want, enough to kill for?"   
        "Money?" Ray suggested as he shuffled through the remains of the open briefcase. "Damaging evidence, pictures..." He paused and straightened as Fraser came to the doorway of the bathroom and met his gaze.   
        "Video tapes." They said simultaneously.   
        They searched the room further but came up empty finding, neither a tape, or the alleged rolodex. Ray plucked one of the business cards from the briefcase and they left the room. On a hunch, Ray stopped at the desk and showed his badge to the clerk, asking if Mr. Austin had put anything away for storage or in the safe. The clerk could not comment but went to find the manager, a tall, husky fellow who looked like he may have played pro foot ball in the past and who recognized Ray from college.   
        "Ray Kowalski!" he greeted enthused as he shook the detective's hand. "If it ain't the old Body Hammer himself! You ol' son of a gun! How the hell are ya? What's it been....fourteen years?" Ray grinned and allowed the larger man's traditional back slapping greeting.   
        "Somethin' like dat, Joe." Ray agreed showed his badge, careful to cover the name of Vecchio under it. "I'm workin' for Chicago PD now, think ya can help me out Buddy?"   
        "Yer a cop!" Joe laughed. "Wow! I never woulda figured ya fer bein' one of dem, B.H. What's da missus think of dat?"   
        "Me and Stella ain't together anymore, Joe." Ray announced quietly and Joe frowned. "She worked fer the DA's office, for awhile but she's remarried now, and she's doin' real good."   
        "Sorry ta hear dat man, I know how much in love you two were." Joe offered kindly.   
        "Life goes on." Ray commented. "This is my partner, Constable Ben Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police." Joe offered his hand and Fraser shook it.   
        "Ain't dat a mouthful." He winked at the Mountie. "Yer a long way from home, ain't ya?"   
        "Indeed." Fraser agreed, immediately liking the man's friendly demeanor.   
        "So, you need to get into my safe, hey?" Joe's eyes narrowed on Ray's. "Dat's against policy, y'know." His expression brightened. "But ya must have a good reason or ya wouldn't have asked." He grinned at Fraser. "Me and the Body Hammer go way back, I'd do just about anything fer him."   
        "I appreciate it, Joe." Ray returned as they followed the larger man in behind he desk toward the small back room.   
        "Don't get a lot of requests for keepin' valubles." Joe commented as he moved toward the large wall safe and dialed the combination. He paused and turned a wicked glance toward Ray. "How about one fer old times sake, BH?"   
        "Ah...I don't think..." Ray began suddenly uncomfortable of Fraser's curiously penetrating stare.   
        "One what, Ray?" he inquired as Joe wiggled his finger at him. "Com'on, show us how it's done, man."   
        "Joe, I'm a cop now, besides, I haven't done dat in years..."   
        "You want the guy's stuff, you open the safe." Joe challenged and ray sighed in defeat and moved over toward the object. Fraser watched fascinated as Ray, not even bothering to put his ear to the safe, put his hand on the dial for a moment and closed his eyes, then suddenly his fingers were moving and there was a definitive click as the lock released. He pulled the safe open and stepped aside as Joe clapped his hands and crowed appreciatively.   
        "Never loose dat touch, my friend." He suggested as he pulled out the padded envelope. "Here it is, never looked inside or nothin'. Mr. Austin comin' back anytime, soon?" Ray shook his head. "Poor old fart, well, we all gotta go sometime."   
        "Thanks Joe." Ray offered accepting the envelope and shaking the man's hand and offering him his card. "Gimmie a call sometime, Buddy, we'll get together."   
        "You bet, Ray." Joe agreed,   
        "Out of curiosity, Ray turned back." How long has your driveway looked like dat?"   
        "About a week dey' been layin' it on in pieces." Joe informed then turned, offering his hand to Fraser. "Real nice to meet you, Ben."   
        "And I you, Joe." Fraser returned politely, then turned to follow his partner. Ray had not even put the key in the ignition when Fraser twisted sideways in his seat to peer at him curiously. "Body Hammer, Ray?"   
        "Don't ask, Fraser." The detective warned as a warm pink flushed the tips of his ears and he shifted into gear.   
        "I already have asked, Ray." Fraser pointed out. "Why did he call you the Body Hammer? What exactly was that trick you did with the safe?"   
        "It was just dat, Frase." Ray countered pulling into traffic. "A trick, now let it go."   
        "I'm very curious, Ray." Fraser almost pouted. "You know I will not rest easy until I find out what it all means."   
        "Learn ta live wit disappointment, Fraser." Ray cautioned, a carried threat now evident in his tone, though he knew the Mountie would be relentless.   
        "Oh, well..." Fraser huffed and turned back toward the window. "If you feel you can share things with a practical stranger and not your partner and alleged best friend, then by all means keep it to yourself, Ray." Ray rolled his eyes and sighed. "I suppose just because I tell you everything, that doesn't mean in anyway that you have to tell me everything about yourself, we're all entitled to our privacy after all. I certainly wouldn't want to intrude on..."   
        "Enough!" Ray cried almost laughing in frustration. God how that man could prattle on and mean absolutely opposite of what was coming out of his mouth. Ray didn't know how he did it sometimes. "If yer silent fer the rest of the trip back to my place, I'll tell ya when we get dere."   
        "Why...." Fraser began automatically and Ray raised his finger in warning.   
        "Ah!"   
        "But..."   
        "Uup!"   
        "You..."   
        "Zip!" Ray warned a third time and the Mountie fell silent.   
         Ray knew they were still at least twenty minutes from his apartment and the idea that Fraser could not comment on Ray's driving, as why they were going to the apartment or ask anything at all might actually kill the Mountie, but he would take the chance. Ray intentionally slowed down to hit almost ever red light, stop sign and possible traffic stream from there to his place and Fraser's face was furrowed in concentration. Fraser's curiosity almost always got the better of him, it was really his only character flaw that Ray could see. That need-to-know quality got them both into bizarre situations with often, dangerous results more then once, and for once Ray was going to enjoy the Mounties's silent torment.   
        Finally, they arrived at Ray's apartment building and headed upstairs. Fraser had opened his mouth on the way up the stairs, which Ray was taking slowly and individually, rather then two at a time as he usually did, but Ray warned him they weren't in the apartment yet. He pulled out his key and strolled down the hallway, finally deciding Fraser had had enough, as he unlocked his door and pushed it open. He was startled when he felt a gentle shove from behind him, propelling him inside, as Fraser stepped over the threshold and closed the door.   
        "Now tell me!" Fraser pleading with an expression of utter exasperation and Ray started laughing.   
        "Joe and a few of da fellas I hung around wit used ta call me da Body Hammer, because of the way I kinda threw myself into things." Ray explained as he walked over to his sofa and settled down to peel open the envelope they had brought from the car. "I drank a lot back den, I got physical a lot more often then I should have wit guys twice my size, yet I kept gettin' back up and tryin' it again." Ray shook his head, as he pulled out the two, video tapes that were inside the package, and Fraser settled beside him on the sofa. "A lot of guys like ta try usin' me fer a punchin' bag, but I always got in my licks. Joe started calling me the Body Hammer because of the abuse I seemed to subject my body to, not just wit fightin'."   
        "What other things did you do?" Fraser inquired curious.   
        "Well, I never was what ya'd call Jock material, Frase." Ray commented as he moved over to place one of the untitled tapes inside the VCR. " I was way to skinny and couldn't put on weight to save myself, but I tried anyway, and put myself and my body through some serious torment participatin' in sports and more brawls den I care ta mention. " He smirked back at his partner. "I took punishment dat would make a guy like Joe curl up and die, but I just got up and kept goin'. So dey started callin' me the Body Hammer. I'd forgotten about it until now."   
        "That's amazing, Ray." Fraser remarked. "What sort of things did you go through?"   
        "Just stuff." Ray shrugged, uncomfortable to talk any more about himself, but a memory came to mind and he smiled. "I got into a fight wit this one guy at a bar, he musta been 6'6" and over two hundred pounds. He made a derogatory comment about Stell and I lost it. I busted his nose and bruised him up a little, but he fractured my wrist and gave me three broken ribs, a black eye and a busted lip. I still went and played hockey the following day."   
        "Hockey!" Fraser scolded. "Ray!"   
        "Hey! It was da championship game, buddy." Ray explained as he settled back on the sofa. "I had to win fer my sweetheart."   
        "Stella?" Fraser asked and Ray nodded. "It's a wonder she didn't get you killed."   
        "She almost did a few times, Buddy." Ray chuckled. "Defendin' Stella's honor became a full time job wit me." Fraser shook his head.   
        "What about the safe, Ray?" he pressed.   
        "I've always been good wit numbers, Frase." Ray quipped but the Mountie gave him a knowing look and he was forced to spill all. "I can put my hand on a combination lock, or those games where you have ta guess the number of jelly beans in a jar, I'd guess the right numbers, dat's all."   
        "So you have physic ability, Ray." Fraser deduced grinning and the detective shook his head.   
        "No." he refused. "I'm just a good guesser when it comes to numbers, dat's all."   
        Fraser continued to smile and wondered if that was why the detective always seemed to receive a shock from Cari when they touched, their own unique abilities were reacting to each other. How simply fascinating. He returned his attention to the television as Ray pressed play and the screen came alive with a man and woman in the most intimate of positions.   
        "Oh boy-Debbie Does Dallas." The detective commented.   
        "Pardon me?" Fraser asked confused by Ray's joke and the detective waved a dismissive hand at him.   
        "Ferget it." He declined. "So, what about dis tape is enough ta kill fer?"   
        "Other than it seems the plot is deplorable and the lighting atrocious?" Fraser countered and Ray grinned, the Mountie didn't seem to realize that those were not the focal points of this kind of film.   
        "Yah, other than dat."   
        "I believe that is Marissa Denahey, Ray." Fraser observed, even as he turned the color of his tunic. Ray tilted his head sideways to adjust to the woman on the screen.   
        "Looks like da woman on the license...sort of." Ray agreed then tilted his head the other way as the couple reversed position. "Kinda chunky though."   
        "Ray!" Fraser stared at him appalled, rather than look at the television again.   
        "Oh take a pill, Fraser." The detective retorted easily. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just remember thinking how the weight on her license didn't seem to match up with the body of the victim."   
        "Reed Austin did say she had lost a good deal of weight, Ray." Fraser reminded and Ray shrugged.   
        "Yah, but why would dis tape be important enough to kill him for?"   
        "Blackmail?" Fraser suggested.   
        "Yah, but who?" Ray sighed. "Marissa's dead and...." He paused as his phone rang. He muted the video and jumped up to catch it. "Yah?"   
        "Ray?" Cari Spencer greeted, her voice shaking with uncertainty.   
        "Yah, Cari, what's up?" he asked turning so he could still view the tape. "You okay?"   
        "Ray, I just had another vision." She explained. "I can't explain it, but it's almost as though Marissa and Sandra are trying to reach out from the grave to tell me who the killer is. I see them both, as though through a mirror, each of them being suffocated and the vision is so clear that I can actually now see the hands and chest of the person killing them."   
        "What did you see?" Ray asked intrigued.   
        "The person in black, almost a full view of their body." Cari supplied. "Ray, it's a man. The killer is a man."   
  

        "Ray!" Francesca called and the two men and one women entered the station later that afternoon. The detective had called her with a list of people to find out information on in New York and she had spent most of the morning on the phone.   
        "Whatcha got?" Ray asked her as the trio stopped by her desk.   
        "What's it worth to ya?" she countered and he smirked.   
        "I don't have time to play games, Frannie." he cautioned. "Now tell me what ya know." She pouted only for a minute before giving in.   
        "Sandra Perkins was a nurse for Dr. Hodskins in Manhattan." She supplied. Dr. Hodskins performed cosmetic surgery for a Miss. Marissa Denahey, under the assumed name of April Jennings. I faxed a copy of her license to the clinic there and the receptionist recognized her. She must have been having a lot of work done because she was going there over a year." Francesca smirked. "Get this, Dr. Hodskins mysteriously disappeared about a two weeks ago, just three days before the head nurse Sandra Perkins was murdered."   
        "So the deaths are connected." Ray surmised grimly. "Did they have a photo of Marissa after the surgery?" Francesca shook her head.   
        "The receptionist said they almost always take before and after shots, but apparently that particular client had refused to have her picture taken after her surgeries were completed."   
        "She certainly wouldn't want any evidence if she was planing on taking her sister's place." Fraser decided aloud.   
        "So you think Marissa Denahey had surgery to look like Marlana, then killed her sister and took her place?" Cari reprised thoughtfully.   
        "It would explain why there had been no other way left to identify her other than the license she carried." Fraser agreed.   
        "So she possibly killed off the good Doctor, the nurse, who she was also in the business with on the side because they all knew her from before the surgery.".Ray theorized  .   
        "Austin may have been attempting to black mail Marissa with the tapes of her work before and after the surgery." Fraser added."Which would explain why we found evidence of that the killer had been at the Manchester where Austin was staying, and by the body in the park."   
        "So then Marlana Denahey is really Marissa Denahey." Francesca announced finally catching on. "Then ya just need to go an arrest her."   
        "It's all circumstantial evidence, Frannie." Ray refused. "We can't get a warrant on dat. Besides, Something doesn't add up." He turned to look at Cari. "You said the killer bumped into you dat night outside the diner, did you notice if it was a woman or a man?"   
        "It happened too fast. I am sure in my visions that the killer is a man, but I couldn't say if the person who hit you was." She offered apologetically. "I do know that I saw Marissa's face and then a big mansion on the hill."   
        "Marlana Denahey owns a house like dat." Ray stated grimly, as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of caramels. He offered one to Francesca, who smiled and selected one, then Fraser and Cari accepted one as well.   
        "Perhaps we should pay another visit to Miss. Denahey, Ray." Fraser suggested as Ray popped a caramel into his mouth.   
  

        "Miss. Denahey is not accepting visitors at the moment." The security guard informed coolly, when they drove up to the large iron gate.   
        "Tell her Detective Vecchio and Constable Fraser are here wit information about her sister's murder." Ray explained.  "After all, she got nothin' ta hide, right?" The guard sneered at him then called up to the main house. He offered them a despising look before opening the gate and allowing them inside. They parked once more in the circular drive and walked up to the house. Once again the large, ominous butler invited them inside and settled them in the parlor before retreating once more. Marlana Denahey entered, wearing a soft blue afternoon dress of braided silk. Her attentive friend was mysteriously absent.   
        "Have you more questions, Detective?" she demanded. "I am very busy this time of year and don't have much time to spare I am afraid, so please be quick."   
        "We just have a few more questions, Ma'am." Ray assured smoothly. "When was the last time you heard from your sister?"   
        "Oh, about three weeks ago I believe." She recalled. "She wrote to tell me she was going to be in a play on Broadway. She was quite excited about it."   
        "Did you ever meet or speak to this man?" Ray asked showing her a picture of Austin Reed. She shook her head.   
        "No, who is he?"   
        "He was yer sister's agent." Ray supplied. "I just wondered if you might be able to tell us anything about him, like if he might have a reason to kill yer sister."   
        "I'm afraid I have never met the man." She denied. "Is he a suspect?"   
        "No, he's dead, someone shot him last night in a local diner."   
        "How awful!" she cried aghast. "Was he a suspect?"   
         "We don't know yet." Ray returned "Like I said, we were hoping you could tell us more about his relationship wit yer sister."   
        "My sister and I were never very close, Detective." Marlana offered. "I only knew the parts of her life that she wished to tell me, which usually involved her petty attempts to make me jealous of her success." She glanced at her gold watch. "If that is all I really must ask you to leave."   
        "One more thing." Ray announced pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. "You just need to sign this to have yer sister's body released into yer care for a proper burial." Marlana eyed the document warily for a brief instant, before taking it and moving toward the desk. "Here's a pen." She accepted the pen from him and signed her name to the form, then handed the paper and pen back to him, unaware that Ray gripped the pen at the very end, but didn't put it back in his pocket.   
        "If that is all?" she inquired and they nodded, thanking her for her patience.   
        "I am very sorry for your loss." Cari offered holding out her hand and Marlana hesitated only briefly before grasping it.   
        "Thank you." She returned politely as the butler returned. "Arden will show you out." They left the house and climbed into the GTO. Fraser pulled out the small evidence bag from the glove box and opened it for Ray to drop the pen inside.   
        "I'm afraid I couldn't read anything, other than she seemed very sure of herself." Cari sighed leaning forward and watching Fraser seal the bag.   
        "We'll run her prints and see what happens." Ray surmised as he started the engine and pulled away from the house.   
        "Wait!" Cari suddenly cried as she turned in her seat and glanced out the back window to the house. A curtain fell back across one of the lower windows, where someone had been peering out at them. "It's her gun, Ray. The one we found, it belongs to her, she...she knows we suspect her."   
        "Then let's go see if we can get enough evidence to nail the bitch." Ray decided starting back down the drive. 

        Later that day, they sat in a local eatery, after Ray had offered to treat them to lunch. He had even called Francesca and invited her along since the pizza parlor was close to the station and he knew it would be her break time soon. She joined them a few minutes later and Ray moved from the booth to allow her to slide inside, before settling beside her. Fraser and Cari sat opposite, sipping their glasses of water. Francesca ordered a coke, just as Ray had, and they all decided on Ray's favorite of Hawaiian pizza to eat.   
        "Thanks fer includin' me Bro." Frannie offered, then leaned to whisper in his ear. "My real brother never invited me to anything other than my own birthday party." Ray almost choked on the mouthful of soda he had in his mouth, as he tried not to laugh aloud.   
        "Yer welcome." He muttered, wiping his lips with his napkin to catch the remaining soda that had tried to slip out before he could swallow. She placed her hand under the table and patted his thigh, causing him to jump in surprise and knock his knee off the underside of the table.   
        "Something wrong, Ray?" Fraser asked curious as Ray adjusted himself in the booth and shooed Francesca's hand off his leg, shooting her a bewildered glance.   
        "No." he denied as Francesca wrapped both of her arms around one of Ray's and lay her head against him affectionately.   
        "Isn't Ray the sweetest brother?" she sighed to Cari, who smiled and nodded in agreement, as Ray peered down at the woman clinging to him.   
        "What do you want, Frannie?" he demanded, in what he hoped was a brotherly retort. "I'm buyin' yer lunch, what else you want me to pay fer." Ray was trying to bait Francesca into one of their usual arguments, which he fully believed she must have had with her real brother.   
        "I don't want anything." She assured smiling, not bothering to release him. "I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you." She leaned up and kissed his cheek fondly and Ray made a show of wiping it off, praying no one noticed how badly his hands were shaking.   
        "Oh boy!" he griped. "Like I ain't got enough problems wit-out my sister slobberin' all over me." Cari laughed and Fraser smiled; though he was as confused with Francesca's behavior as his partner apparently was. He rose from the booth and pulled his pretend sister with him. "Excuse us a minute, I may have to spank her." Cari's laughter tinkled after them as Ray quickly escorted Francesca back toward the dimly lit area of the washrooms.   
        "Are you really going to spank me, Ray?" Francesca teased, ignoring his stormy expression. He pushed past the bathrooms to the door that led to the back alley and pulled her outside.   
        "What are ya tryin' ta do, Frannie?" he demanded furiously "You wanna blow my cover and put yer brother in danger? Is dat what ya want, Frannie?" Francesca's lower lip trembled as she cast her eyes downward. "Don't play wit me, Frannie-ya got no idea what yer playin' wit, so quit whatever game you think yer...."   
         "I'm sorry." She whispered as a single tear rolled down her cheek and Ray growled in frustration.   
        "Don't!" he pleaded. "Do. Not. Do. Dat. Frannie."   
        "I...I'm sorry." She hiccuped. "I...I can't help it."   
        "Com'ahn, honey." He whispered as she searched her purse for a tissue to wipe her eyes. "Don't cry. Hell, ya never cry when I get mad at ya, ya just get mad back."   
        "I...I just...I just wanted..." she hiccuped again and Ray sighed and pulled her into his arms.   
        "Sssh, baby." He soothed, even as his eyes rolled heavenward in a silent plea of 'why me?' "I...I reacted badly, I'm sorry." He pulled away, but kept hold of her arms as he stared down at her. " I don't know what started you and yer family getting' all touchy feely wit me all of a sudden, but ya can't be doin' dat, Frannie, not you. Okay?"   
        "W...why not me?" she whimpered, raising dark moist eyes to his. "I...I just wanted to show you I...I care about you too." She sniffed. "I...I appreciate what yer doin' fer Ray and our family."   
        "I know dat." Ray assured gently. "You don't have ta show me anything, I know you appreciate my position. But Frannie, I'm not yer real brother, I don't have feelin's like yer brother would, y'know what I mean?" She shook her head and he dropped his head for a moment in frustration, then met her gaze again. "Remember what I said the other day at the station, about you smellin' nice and all?" She smiled a little and nodded. "Think about it a minute and you'll figure out why I can't have you kissin me and....bein' so appreciative." Francesca thought for a moment, then a tiny blush highlighted her pretty cheeks.   
        "Because you like me...." She began quietly.   
        "But not like a brother, Frannie." He finished and she nodded, trying to ignore the thrilling sensation rising within her.   
        "But can't we just...." She started and he shook his head.   
        "No." he refused before she could finish. "Yer brother's life depends on me and you behavin' a certain way. We can't change that."   
        "This sucks." She sighed and Ray chuckled and released her.   
        "Welcome to my world." He quipped then indicated they return inside.   
        "Ray?" she asked before they got to far along. "Could...we could still be friends, though, couldn't we? Maybe go to a movie or something sometimes, talk...?" Ray nodded.   
        "I'd like dat, Frannie." He agreed, then grinned. "As yer brother." Francesca sighed and nodded, then followed him back to the table. She cast a deliberate glare at Ray as she slid into the booth and he settled beside her.   
        "Boy, some brother you are." She griped. "Can't even take a joke. I'm tallin' Ma when we get home."   
        "You do dat." Ray agreed, glad she had seen the wisdom behind their talk as Ray's cell phone rang. He answered it quickly, his expression growing grimmer by the second.   
         "Damn!" he swore ending the call as the waiter set the large pizza pie in front of them on the table. He divided out the plates and then left, after asking if they needed anything else. Everyone took a slice, but no one actually began to eat.   
        "What is it, Ray?" Fraser inquired, noting his partner's stormy expression.   
        "The prints belong to Marlana Denahey." Ray informed "So I guess dat screws the scenario of Marissa impersonating her sister."   
        "Shoot!" Francesca sighed.   
         "We're back ta square freakin' one!" Ray implied angrily, hitting his fist off the table.   
        "Ray?" Cari offered. "There is one other thing that might help."   
        "What?"   
        "Flush out the real killer." She decided. "Make an announcement that you have someone who knows the killer's identity."   
        "Who?" Fraser asked.   
        "Me." She offered and both men shook their heads, refusing to use her as bait.   
        "No way!" Ray refused. "We're supposed ta be protectin' ya, not puttin' you in danger."   
        "Okay then," she retreated.  "We can at least agree that the possible killer knew both Marissa and Marlana were sisters."   
        "And that Marissa had surgery to look like Marlana." Francesca supplied.   
         "Suppose Marissa killed Sandra Perkins and Dr. Hodskins, because they knew about her surgery." Cari began. "Then intended to kill her sister and take her place, but Marlana found out about the plan and turned the tables on her."   
        "If Marlana found out what Marissa was doing, she may have killed her sister and tried to lead us to suspect robbery." Ray agreed.   
        "Marlana would have had to make sure Marissa could not be found looking identical to her sister, so she covered up the possible similarities." Fraser surmised. "Knowing however, that further investigation might lead to the truth about Marissa's surgeries, and that the blame would somehow fall on Marissa for planing to take her sister's place."   
        "But why kill Reed Austin?" Cari quipped. "What purpose could Marlana have had, especially since he confirmed that Marissa had been having the surgery."   
        "Because Austin also had tapes which showed Marissa before and after da surgery." Ray rationalized. "If anyone dat knew Marlana Denahey saw those tapes, dey would think it was her and not Marissa, thus ruinin' her reputation as a socialite."   
        "It still doesn't make any sense." Cari decided. "If Marissa was planning this big transformation to unsurp her sister's position, why didn't Marlana just go to the police?"   
        "I still can't get past the fact that I am sure it was a man that hit me that night outside the diner." Ray muttered. "No way a woman could hit dat hard." Cari and Francesca glared at him indignantly. "Don't gimmie dat look, I've been hit enough by both ta know the difference and a man does have more power behind him, so just go suck on a women's lib pamphlet and get over it."   
         "We must be missing something." Francesca commented as she pulled something out of her purse and handed it to the detective." Here, I forgot to give this back to you the other day, Ray." Ray glanced at the license in her hand for a long moment before taking it and turning his gaze on Cari, who had just taken a bite of her pizza.   
        "Cari, can you describe Sandra Perkins and Marissa Denahey, as you saw them in yer visions?" Ray asked and Cari nodded and swallowed.   
        "I can sketch them for you." She agreed pulling a medium note book from her purse and a charcoal pencil.   
        "You sketch?" Fraser remarked impressed and she nodded again. "As do I."   
        "I'd love to see some of your work." She suggested smiling. "I have some finished drawings back at my apartment, maybe we could get together and compare sketches?"   
        "Do you prefer ink or leads?" Fraser inquired intreguied as Ray and Frannie stared at them both in pleased surprise.   
        "Hello?" Ray interrupted. "Can we get back to da case and you can show yer etchings to her later, Frase." Fraser blushed bright red and glared stormily at his partner, but Cari just winked at him as she opened a blank page in the book.   
        "It's a date." She promised the Mountie and Fraser's eyes widened in delight.   
        She sketched quickly, in between bites of pizza, the two women she had seen, then handed it to Ray to view.   
        "The first one is Sandra Perkins." She explained. "She had blond hair an blue eyes." Ray nodded and turned the page. "That one is Marissa Denahey." Ray's scowled as he stared intently at the drawing then glanced at the license still in his hand. He placed both on the table and turned them toward Fraser to view. The photo on the license did not match the woman on the paper.   
        "Let's finish eating then get back to the station so we can run dis through missing persons." Ray instructed and everyone complied.   
        They all returned to the station and Frannie loaded the sketch into the computer, then waited to see what information would turn up. She stared at the screen in shock, then quickly printed it and hurried to Welsh's office, where the others were briefing the Lieutenant on the case. She handed Ray the sheet and he read the information, his eyes widening in surprise.   
         "Dr. Amanda Hodskins." Ray announced, "Thirty five year old, divorced Mother of two. Disappeared a little over three weeks ago in New York."   
        "So the woman I saw killed was actually the doctor?" Cari deduced surprised and Ray nodded as he handed the sheet to Fraser.   
        "Yep, " he confirmed. "And look what kind of surgeon she was." Fraser read over the file and met his partner's sobering gaze.   
        They headed back to Ray's apartment and popped the second video, which had been in the envelope left by the late Reed Austin, into the VCR. They had both forgotten to view it after Cari's disturbing call and now they knew what to look for. In the second film there was once again a couple having highly exaggerated sex atop someone's desk in a plush office. The camera was on the man's back, so they could have a good view of exactly what the two were doing, but as it pulled back the face of Marlana's friend Edward came into focus and Cari nodded.   
        "Could that be the man in my visions?" she asked.   
        "Bingo." Ray murmured grinning.   
  

        "Whatever could you possibly want now?" Marlana Denahey demanded aggitated, as she found herself once more in the parlor with the two officers and a proclaimed physic.   
        "Do you own a gun, Miss. Denahey?" Ray asked.   
        "No I abhor the things." She denied. "Is there anything else?"   
        "We have a colt M1911 .45 calibre gun that is registered to you, Ma'am." Ray countered. She paused for a long moment.   
        "I have purchased a gun once in awhile for my body guards to have with them when I travel." She admitted. "But I do not allow them in the house and I have never fired one myself."   
        "Well, we didn't ask if you ever fired one, Miss. Denahey." Ray reminded. "Only if you owned one."   
        "Well, heaven's I can't remember all the things I've bought or signed my name to, Detective!" she defied. "Can you?"   
        "I can remember how many weapons I own, Miss. Denahey." He returned calmly.   
        "What is this all about?" she charged. "I am very busy and..."   
        "Where is your friend Edward, Miss. Denahey?" Fraser inquired and she glanced at him surprised.   
        "What?" she asked in disbelief. "He...he's at work I would imagine."   
        "Where does he work?" Ray asked taking out his note pad. "We'll need to ask him a few questions too." Marlana Denahey's perfect composure dropped slightly.   
        "He....I don't recall." She announced.   
        "I thought he was your close friend?" Fraser remarked curious. "You do not know where he works? Perhaps then you could give us his home address and we could pay a visit to him there."   
        "No." she refused. "He...Edward lives here with me."   
        "How quaint." Ray commented and received a distasteful glare from their host.   
        "What does Edward have to do with my sister's murder?" she asked, just a trace of anger showing in her voice.   
        "We just wanna ask him some questions." Ray assured. "Y'know, like how long you've known him, if he had ever met yer sister?"   
        "No." Marlana replied, her composure returning like water reforming into ice. "He never met Marissa and he and I have known each other just a short while."   
        "Yet he is currently living with you." Fraser reminded.   
        "My personal life is none of your affair, Constable." She retorted. "Now, I'm afraid I've answered all the questions I care to and I will have to ask you to leave."   
        "Did you know we had a physic workin' da case?" Ray asked her, ignoring her dismissal.   
        "Yes I..." Her eyed looked toward Cari but couldn't quite meet them. "I had heard about that, in one of the papers."   
        "Did you also know that Miss. Spencer could identify the killer?" Fraser inquired and once more Marlana's rigid composure faltered.   
        "She...I imagine if she is truly physic that she could do a number of things." Marlana replied as she moved to pour herself a scotch. "If that is so why haven't you arrested someone?"   
        "We want to be sure." Ray countered. "Now if you could just tell us where..." The door opened and the subject of their conversation, his eyes narrowing on the pretty red haired pixie before him.   
        "Eddie run!" Marlana cried out. "She knows it's you!" Ray caught hold of Marlana as she tried to make her own mad dash for the door after her lover, and managed to handcuff her to the bar, then followed Fraser and Cari after the fleeing suspect.   
        They pursued him out of the house and into the gardens, only to be brought up short as a large uniform suddenly blocked their way. Ray flashed his badge and his gun.   
        "Do I haveta get rough, big fella?" he warned, preying to God he didn't, because if this man-beast hit him it would probably only take the one blow to kill the smaller detective.   
        "Not at all." The wall rumbled. "But please avoid the rose bushes, I've just finished planting them." Ray gaped at him and watched the butler move aside to bend and check the area that had already been stepped on.   
        "Oh, sure...okay." Ray agreed and took off again, shaking his head. Fraser and Cari had managed to corner Edward at the top of the hill, overlooking the city. The man looked ready to jump of they came any closer.   
        "It's over." Fraser was telling him, trying to coerce the man away from the ledge. "Don't do anything foolish."   
        "Get away from me or I'll jump!" Edward screamed tossing one leg over the railing that had been etched into the cliff.   
        "You would leave Marlana to take the blame?" Fraser suggested. "That isn't very nice to do to someone you love."   
        "I do love her." Edward sobbed. "I love her more than anything! That's why we had to do this, we had to don't you see? It was the only way."   
        "I understand." Fraser assured quietly. "However if you truly love her, how can you leave her to face this all alone? How do you think, after all you have both been through to be together, she would handle your deserting her now?" Edward hesitated and wiped at his face angrily.   
        "I did it for her." He whispered, staring down at the long drop below as Fraser and Ray inched ever closer. "It was all her idea, she said we could get away with it and I didn't mind, not really."   
        "Of course not." Fraser agreed. "You love her, you would do anything. Isn't that what being sisters is all about?" Marissa Denahey raised his head and stared forlornly at the Mountie.   
        "Yes." He agreed, even as they both reached out to pull him back from the ledge. "Even become a man." Fraser offered him a sympathetic look, then they slowly started back down the hill.   
  

         "So." Cari sighed from her small kitchen as she brewed some tea and Fraser glanced out her terrace window at the view. "Marissa and Marlana were in love and because they were sisters, they knew they could never be together publicly."   
         "Marisa decided to fly to New York, in the guise of persuing an acting career, and to earn the money any way she could to pay for a sex change opperation." Fraser concured as he moved back into the kitchen.   
         "They couldn't use the family's money for the operation because someone might find out." Cari continued as she pulled some biskets from the cupboard and started arranging them on a plate.  "So she became a prostitute, because the money was good and, maybe...to have a few last flings as a woman."   
        " She meets up with Reed Austin." Fraser deduced.  "And he introduces her to ponography films , where she could make a good deal of money and still derive some satisfaction from it. However, to cover up her operation, Marissa decided to get rid of Sandra Perkins and the Doctor that had been treating her, to prevent her secret from being discovered. She and Marlana concoct a scenario that would make it look as though Marissa was insanely jealous of her older sister and was going to attempt to kill her and take her place, thus explaining the rumor of surgery, should it ever get out."   
         "So that even if the smoking gun does point back to Marlana for killing Marissa, they can claim it was in self defence because the woman was demented." Cari stated as they carried their mugs and biscuts back to the living room where her sketch pads were strewn about to look at.  "Or if the police continue to think the dead woman is really Marlana and that Marissa has taken her place, her own prints would prove her innocent. Leaving it open for the new man in her life."   
           "Marissa, as Edward, kills the nurse and kidnaps the doctor to use as a stand in body for her own death." Fraser concluded.  "Then makes sure the only way to recognize the murder victem is by the licence, conveniently left behind, the necklace and the scar Marlana Denahey claimed her sister to have. Any evidence gathered would be purely circumstancial and so both sisters would be free to start a knew life together as a man and woman."   
         "Austin must have been blackmailing them because he had a video of Marissa before the transformation was complete and at least one film after, so they had to kill him off, esepcially when he started talking to you and Ray." She shuddered.   " It's downright creepy if you ask me. "   
         "Yet inanely brilliant." Fraser decided as he set his tea on the table beside him and picked up one of the sketch pads.   
"These are wonderful!" She smiled and handed him a bisket, then settled on the floor beside him. He bit into it appreciatively, then reached for his tea and took a sip of the brew and his eyes widened in surprise. "Bark tea?"   
        "It's my favorite." She announced. "My Father made many trips to Canada while he was in the Navy, and I developed a great fondness for its delicacies and culture."   
        "Do you mind if I ask how old you are, Cari?" Benton inquired shyly and she smiled again, a smile that the Mountie found hauntingly familiar.   
        "I'm thirty one." She informed. "I was born October 12th 1969." Fraser gasped slightly, for that was the date his mother had died.   
        "W...what's your full name?"   
        "Caroline." She whispered in his ear and Fraser's pulse began to race. "Sometimes those who love each other so deeply get a second chance to explore life with their kindred spirit."   
        "Y...you're my....you're my Mum." Fraser breathed as tears came to his eyes and she nodded.   
        "A part of me is, Benton." She confessed softly. "I've always known I felt older, wiser then my years, and had a longing for life in Canada, but I never understood why." She slipped her hand into his. "Until I met you, Benny."   
        "How...?" Fraser defied, even as she pulled him into her arms.   
        "It's all a great circle I think." She sighed. "Those who have love for each other in one life, come back to love those same people, but in a different way. We're meant to be together, you can feel it, can't you?" Fraser nodded, for he did feel what she was saying, he felt, for the first time, complete. He wrapped his arms around her protectively.   
        "Perhaps Marissa and Marlana Denahey simply couldn't wait for the next life." He commented quietly.   
        "They'll have to deal with what they've done." She agreed quietly. "But I don't want to talk about them anymore."   
        "Cari I..." Fraser began, so overcome with emotion that he could not say what his heart was desperate to proclaim. She pressed soft fingers to his lips and gazed into his eyes.   
        "You're coming in loud and clear Constable." She informed and he returned her smile his eyes bright with tears of joy and wonder. "I love you too."  At last he'd found his life mate, Some one who he could belong to, who would understand him. He leaned forward and kissed her, vowing to love her forever and keep her safe.   
        "You better." She whispered against his lips and he smiled and deepened the kiss.   
    
    
  


End file.
